


Have Your Cake (and Eat it, Too)

by VastDelusion



Category: Adventure Time
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Music, And Baking!, Cake is the sister we all need, Celebrities, Dishonesty, Fionna is supportive, Gumball's name is Barnabas Honning, M/M, Marshall Lee being Marshall Lee, Marshall Lee is a grunge rock artist, Marshall doesn't know that Bubba is Prince Gumball, Peppermint Maid is his agent, Prince Gumball is a pop star, Prince Gumball is his alter ego, Prince Gumball is kind of a diva, Prince Gumball likes Hallmark Movies, Secret Identity, and we all love him for it, unhealthy relationship dynamics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:28:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28588785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VastDelusion/pseuds/VastDelusion
Summary: Barnabas V. Honning is an ideal college student: straight A’s, Dean’s List, the whole shebang. When he’s not busy hitting the books, he’s on the stage as his secret alter-ego, pop sensation Prince Gumball.During an outing, Bubba meets college rock artist Marshall Lee and is quickly attracted to his simple lifestyle, without the glamor and superficiality of fame.As the two leap into a relationship, Bubba fears Marshall Lee would no longer want anything to do with him if he knew of his glamorous life in the limelight. After all, you can’t have your cake and eat it, too.
Relationships: Prince Gumball/Marshall Lee
Comments: 5
Kudos: 7





	Have Your Cake (and Eat it, Too)

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Bubbline/GumLee fic, so I hope it doesn't show!
> 
> Norwegian Translation of Prince Gumball is Prins Honning (Prince Honey), so his name is Barnaby Honning. Just so you guys know I didn't pull his name out of nowhere. And I kind of like the idea of Bubba being part Norwegian.

The lights of the stage were blinding, the roar of the crowd deafening. Prince Gumball could hardly see two feet in front of him, and the ridiculous pair of pink glasses he wore did not assist his lack of vision. He placed one foot in front of the other, taking each sure step until he reached the strut he usually possessed, emerging through the simulated fog that wrapped around his white platform boots. The music played loudly in his ears, and he faced all the people that sat in the stadium, all their eyes on him. It helped that he could hardly see most of them--it had been harder when he first started his career, but it was easy to forget they were there, at this point.

Just as he rehearsed--and had learned by tedious repetition--he began to sing the song that had gotten him on the stage. It wasn't one of the ones he'd written, rather one that was shoved into his hands by his producers and was forced to sing. Fortunately for him, everyone practically lapped it up.

It would be a lie if he didn't drink up the gratuitous lifestyle. He felt absolutely fabulous most of the time when he was in this excessive get-up. The pink wig and golden crown that caught all the light that was shone at him sat proudly on his head, and at times he forgot it wasn't his own hair. He practically effused confidence from his skin, and the crowd screamed as if they needed it for basic nourishment.

Most of the night passed by in a blur, until the soles of his feet were begging him for release and his throat was dry from all the singing and dancing. He sat in his cushioned chair and looked at his reflection in the mirror.

It was hard to recognize, at times. Was that pink abomination actually him, or was it something that lived inside him and consumed him against his will? His makeup artists touched him up, and he had to get up again to greet the fans that bought backstage passes.

The faces that passed before him were forgotten almost immediately, as if they were all part of an obscure dream he'd had. He was just so exhausted, and he wanted the night to be over, but it was passing by slowly, as if he were watching grains of sand drain into the bottom of an hourglass. If he could shake it to speed it up, he would.

He tried not to rub his eyes in fear of smearing his makeup and greeted each fan with a saccharine smile and sugary sweet demeanors before scritching a name that wasn't his onto whatever was passed into his hands. He felt if he had to take one more picture, he would go blind. Sensory overload was part of the job, however, and he knew how to deal with it.

An eternity passed and another began before he finally was able to be in the calm solitude of his dressing room. He faced away from the mirror, not wanting to spend another second looking at his own face or hearing his own voice. He wanted to be in the library at Ooo University, sifting through some Chemistry textbook and pursuing his meaning of life. Right now, however, it was to sing about fake relationships and to occupy the lavish lifestyle of someone he wasn't.

He grew out of this candy-themed persona a long time ago, but it hadn't outgrown him yet, apparently. He finally was able to rub the exhaustion from his eyes--the night wasn't close to over, much to his dismay. There was the afterparty, then the inevitable all-nighter he had to undergo to finish his Physics project on time, and any grade less than a perfect one was unacceptable.

His agent, Pepper, came bursting through the door after a brief knock and greeted him with all the enthusiasm she had to offer. Prince Gumball knew that if he faded a little in the limelight, Pepper would push him under the rug in favor of whoever was on top, so no matter how friendly she acted, he knew it was ingenuine. Much like everything else in this profession, the Prince of Sweets thought bitterly. He turned to face his reflection in the mirror to see the damage he'd done to his makeup.

"Gumball, honey, you sparkled out there tonight," Pepper said, leaning over his shoulder.

Gumball looked at her in the mirror with a fake enthusiasm. Pepper was better at it than he was, but she had been doing it for longer. How she managed to stay in the field for so long, he'd never know.

"I know you've turned it down multiple times now, but Seneca would go crazy for you," Pepper gushed. "In fact, all of Ooo would go crazy to see you go on tour. It would be a milestone for your career, Gumball. It's a fast paced world out there, and you might get left behind if you don't take this opportunity."

"I don't intend on going out yet, but I must give you the same reasons as last time," Gumball sighed. "I have other preceding matters on my plate at the moment."

"I know, I know," Pepper waved it off. "But this will be huge for you. Imagine travelling all over Ooo. To sing for all the crowds you can imagine. Imagine seeing that pretty pink face of yours on every surface as far as the eye can see. You can get any girl you want. Or guy. Or anyone else you want. It's 2020, nobody cares about that kind of stuff anymore."

Gumball pretended to powder his face to hide his embarrassment. "Perhaps, over summer?"

Her smile widened as she clapped him on the shoulder. "That's my boy. Come on, let's get to that afterparty." She turned around before pausing. "Well, maybe get a little touch-up, first."

It was a flurry of brushes, but it was routine, at this point. He didn't have to be told to "Sit still," or "Blink," anymore. He could have done it in his sleep at this point. After his make-up crew cleared out, he stood from his plush chair and followed Pepper out the door. He promised himself not to get shit-faced this time. While the notion was alluring, he had a lot of valuable work to do, and it was difficult to interpret crucial graphs and data while nursing a hangover.

He stepped back into the light and was escorted back out to his limousine. Some fans that decided to stick around afterward cheered loudly once they saw him, and he was convinced he was going to go deaf at an early age. The white car door was opened for him, and he placed an equally white platform boot on the pristine floor. He situated himself on the seat and, once the door closed behind him, he slumped from his usually perfect posture. He just wanted the night to be over. He wanted to collapse onto his bed, surrounded by fluffy pink pillows and soft, high-thread-count sheets and blankets with a cheesy Hallmark movie playing on his tv. He was too tired to want to look at data and figures, even to bake cream puffs. Fionna would be concerned for his well-being, he thought fondly, but she wasn't there.

He huffed disappointedly. He would gladly take her company over the rich socialite strangers he was on his way to commune with. At least he didn't have to sing or strut around any longer. The limousine began to move, and it was all he could do to keep himself from rubbing his eyes again.

**°✧━━━━━♔━━━━━✧°**

Barnabas V. Honning sat on his comfortable bed, his fluffy pink pillow he sometimes cuddled to help him concentrate leaning against his ankles. He glanced back and forth with bleary eyes between his Physics textbook and his laptop, both sitting before him. He sucked thoughtfully onthe cherry sucker in his mouth, which colored his lips a bright red.

He usually limited his studying on his bed, as he was trying to train his mind that his bed was for sleeping and his desk was for working, but he couldn't bring himself from the sanctuary of blankets and pillows on which he was currently nestled in. He took a quick break from his ceaseless work to rub his eyes and the sore soles of his feet, aching from the agonizing hours he spent away from his room, and, ultimately, his project.

The blinding lights seemed to be burned into his corneas, as every time he closed his eyes, he could see them shining down upon him. He could feel the gross sweat filling the gaps between his obnoxious pink wig and hairline. He could hear the crowd screaming at him their approval and support.

He fell back against his numerous pillows and stared up at the blank white ceiling above him. He wanted nothing more than to fall asleep right there, with no troubles on his mind, but he couldn't allow himself to do so. He had a Physics project due the next day, and he wanted it to be the best it could be. He would never forgive himself if it was less than spectacular. He needed to keep his grades up to maintain his spot on the Dean's List.

Feeling himself doze off, he shot up from his bed and walked around the room a couple of times to wake himself up. He felt grateful that he got a single dorm, so he didn’t have to worry about keeping them up or them interfering with his work. He threw another pot of coffee on. It had been a long night, and it was going to be even longer. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he went to sleep while his project went unfinished.

He tapped his pen impatiently as he waited for his coffee to finish brewing, configuring the calculations in his head.

**°✧━━━━━♔━━━━━✧°**

Barnabas felt confident about his project, despite the fact his eyes were drooping from lack of sleep. He looked it over several times and had his TA look it over before formally submitting it. All he had to worry about was the presentation he was going to give on it the next day, but he felt confident enough with his existing knowledge that he was going to ace it.

After treating himself to a latte, he took his diurnal walk about the windy walkways of the campus’ central mall and returned to his room for a lengthy nap. When he could no longer keep his eyes closed, he sat up in his nest of fluffy pillows and watched his cheesy Hallmark movies on his laptop. He usually invited Fionna to such events, but she was busy in class, and he didn’t want to hear her complain about them. Yes, he knew they were all the same, but it didn’t eliminate the romantic charm the movies held for him.

He munched on a cream puff he had baked in the dorm kitchen two days prior. It had been sitting in the fridge, glaring down Barnabas. He ultimately caved for its sugary goodness, not caring if it was going to go straight to his thighs. It wasn’t as if his jeans were going to suffer from it.

He watched the predictable movies well into the evening, and he was only interrupted by dinner and a knock on his window. He glanced over to the plane of glass to see a familiar face. He rolled his eyes lovingly before striding over to the window and opening it to greet his friend.

“Hey, Fionna.”

She gave him a smile. “Hey, Bubba. Boy’s night in?”

He shrugged and looked back to his laptop in his makeshift nest, of sorts. “I guess so. Care to join me?”

Fionna rolled her eyes. “Let me guess, Hallmark movies?”

“So?”

“Yeah, no thanks. Actually, I came to invite you to this band event thingy.” She slapped a flier against the screen that separated them. “It’s supposed to be crazy cool. You should come.”

“Yeah, I don’t--”

“Come on, Bubba. When was the last time you left your room?”

“An hour ago.”

“No, I mean, when was the last time you left your room to do something fun? And not school related.”

He thought of the stage, the bright lights, the night before, and the music event sounded even less alluring. However, other than that, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone to an extracurricular event that didn’t include science, school, or his other life. Barnabas shrugged in response.

“See? You _need_ to come with me! Even if you don’t have fun, you will get some fresh air and some time with your best bud!”

He sighed, which she seemed to take for an answer.

“Cool, I’ll meet you out front.”

There was no turning back, now, Barnabas thought as Fionna bounded around the corner to make good on her promise. He defeatedly turned to grab his jacket, shrugging it over his sweater vest. He ran a quick comb through his reddish-blond hair and pulled on a pair of sneakers before closing his laptop and grabbing his keys from his desk. He sighed as he locked his door behind him, shoving his hands in his pockets and taking his sweet time to meet his friend by the entrance of the dorm hall.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you guys for reading! Don't be afraid to drop a comment! Love you! ❤


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